Home > Wild About You (Wildcat Hockey #2)

Wild About You (Wildcat Hockey #2)
Author: Rebecca Jenshak





A month ago, I was a rookie with the best stats in the league. I was traveling the world, playing hockey, and making more money than I ever dreamed.

Then my sister showed up on my doorstep with nowhere else to go.

I don’t know the first thing about being responsible for a troubled teen, and the team jet isn’t exactly kid-friendly.

Enter Piper. My sister’s new teacher and nanny.

Smart, nurturing, and just as beautiful as I remember.

Too bad she hates my guts.

We need her.

And this time, I’m not letting her go.


Wild About You is a full-length second chance romance with a grumpy NHL player, his teenage sister, and the ex-girlfriend he never forgot.


The Wildcats are the youngest team in the NHL. On the ice, they’re cocky, determined, and ready to take the league by storm. Off the ice? They’re always up for a wild time.










An hour ago, I was a guy that had it all—a rising career playing professional hockey, the best stats of any rookie in the league, great teammates, and a cold beer in my hand on a Sunday afternoon.

Maybe that doesn’t sound like a lot, but growing up with nothing, it felt like I’d finally achieved something. I felt on top of the world. At peace. You know the bad thing about peace is that it never holds. If it did, it’d just be called status quo.

Life is a series of ups and downs with mere moments where you look around, take a deep breath, and think this is what it’s all about. Then your seventeen-year-old sister arrives and shoots that peace to shit. Maybe I didn’t have it all, but what I did have was my sanity and an apartment to myself.

Both of those are fading fast.

“You can take my room,” I say as I bring my favorite pillow and a spare blanket with me to the couch.

Everly still lingers in the doorway as if she’s just now realized she traveled five hours to squat with her half-brother in his messy, one bedroom apartment. I didn’t say my apartment was ritzy, just that it was my own. It’d be easy to blow my salary on a huge house with all the bells and whistles, but this place feels more like home. Plus, it’s walking distance to the arena.

“Gross. I’m not sleeping in your bed. There’s no telling how many girls you’ve had in there.” She scrunches up her face to show her disgust.

I run my fingers through my hair and tug at the long strands. Needing a haircut is the least of my worries right now. I have an early practice in the morning and a big game on Tuesday. I need one hundred percent of my focus on hockey.

“I changed the sheets this morning,” I say, which is true. Also, Everly is the only girl that’s stepped foot in this apartment since I moved in five months ago. I’m sure she wouldn’t believe me, and I’m not about to share my sex life, however nonexistent, with my sister.

Having it all requires a lot of time and effort. I didn’t come this far or work this hard to not give hockey everything I have. Besides, I don’t do dating or relationships. Not anymore.

She takes one step farther into the apartment. I can see her, assessing, judging, but she doesn’t say anything else as she lets her backpack drop to the floor next to her scuffed boots. She didn’t bring much with her, so hopefully that means she isn’t serious about staying.

I plop down on the couch. This thing is gonna be a bitch to sleep on. “Want to tell me what made you decide to hop on a bus to see me? Or why you were suspended…again?”

Her posture stiffens. “I’m tired. Can we talk tomorrow?”

You’d think I’d deserve some sort of explanation for her showing up on my doorstep claiming she’s quitting high school and wants to live with me, but Everly always was one that held her thoughts and feelings inside until you wanted to shake them from her. I guess that hasn’t changed.

The last suspension was for punching a classmate. The girl was bullying her, so I hadn’t worried at the time. But two suspensions in a year?

“We need to talk, Everly.”

She groans. “You sound like Mom.”

“Why are you here?”

“I told you. I want to live here.”

“Not going to happen.”

She has the audacity to look surprised. “Why not?”

“Lots of reasons. Let’s start with the obvious. I’m not your parent and you need to finish high school.”

“I’m not going back to that prison. Besides, I turn eighteen next week.”

“What happened, Ev?”

“Can we please do this tomorrow?”

I’d like to press her, but it’s late and I have an early morning so maybe I don’t want to get into it, and hold on to whatever sense of false security and solitude I have left.

“Sure. Get some rest,” I say.

She puts one foot in front of the other. With each step her strides get a little more confident. There’s an awkwardness between us that wasn’t always there. In my quest to get away from home and make something of myself, I haven’t always done the best job of staying in touch.

“Hey, Ev,” I say, before she disappears into my room.

She pauses and glances over her shoulder but doesn’t speak.

“It’s good to see you. I like your hair.” The blonde strands are longer, hanging down her back. In the six months since I saw her last, Everly has changed a lot but that feels like the least confrontational thing to point out. She’s skinnier—too skinny, her makeup is heavier, and I spotted a rose tattoo along her wrist I’ve never seen before.

Normal, teenage girl things, I guess, but it’s the combination of all those things mixed with the defeated look on her face that’s kept me from turning her away or packing her up in my car and driving her back home myself.

That look disintegrates as she rolls her eyes at me and walks into my bedroom. She slams the door for good measure. Good talk.

I let out a long breath and groan as I try to get comfortable on the couch. It’s just one night. There’s no way she’s serious about living here. I’m not in any position to take care of her, even if she is almost an adult. My life is routine and structured down to what time I go to sleep each night and when I eat every meal.

And our mom would never go for it. She might not be the world’s greatest parent, but she couldn’t possibly be okay with her underage daughter dropping out of school and moving out of state. Although when I tried to call to let her know Ev was here, she didn’t answer. An uneasy feeling settles on my chest. What the hell did you do, Everly?

Whatever happened, everyone just needs a night to cool off. She’ll wake up, talk to Mom, have a change of heart, and want to go back home. Then I can have my apartment and sanity back. Just one night.










One month later

“Ev! We gotta leave in five minutes!” I yell as I step into the apartment.

I pull off my sweaty shirt and roll my neck to work out a kink. The extra mile on the treadmill this morning did not loosen up the knots and frustration like I hoped.

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